


Enthralled

by MoonstoneMama



Series: Like the Moon in the Arms of the Sun [1]
Category: Castlevania (Cartoon)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Sex, Angst, Bat!Alucard, Bottom-Hector, Breaking the Helpless Virgin Trope, Consensual Blood Drinking, Dark!Alucard, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Times, Fluff, Healthy Sexual Dynamics, Hector is a Virgin but a lot More Capable Than People Make Him Out to Be, Loss of Virginity, M/M, Male Masturbation, Male Solo, Mutual Pining, Non-Sexual Blood Drinking, Porn with Feelings, Resolved Sexual Tension, Riding, Smut, Top-Alucard, Virgin Hector, Wolf!Alucard, hectorcard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-31
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-25 12:20:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 19,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22496005
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoonstoneMama/pseuds/MoonstoneMama
Summary: What if, Alucard hadn't been so sympathetic, towards the good people of Wallachia?What if, every attempt Vlad and Lisa had made, to socialize their son, had been met with fear, mistrust, and violence? Simply because he was born different. Planting a seed of bitterness and resentment within him, from a very young age.What if, Alucard had chosen to side with his father, after his mother had been so brutally burned at the stake?And he would find himself drawn to a silver haired forgemaster, who had recently taken up residence in his father's castle...---------------In which the author thoroughly indulges, in a simple excuse to write smut about her favorite sulky, half-vampire bastard and a certain animal loving forgemaster.
Relationships: Alucard | Adrian Tepes | Arikado Genya/Hector, Alucard/Hector (Castlevania)
Series: Like the Moon in the Arms of the Sun [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1618429
Comments: 46
Kudos: 221





	1. Lament

**Author's Note:**

> Please, if you have the time, check out [Sozo](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21374026/chapters/50914633) by my good friend Despommes!  
> There's not a lot of work out there, in regards to this pairing. And hers is honestly THE best I've read so far. She possesses some amazing world building skills and really knows how to add emotional dept to what she writes. I promise you, you will not regret it!

“Adrian, sweetheart, what’s the matter? Didn’t you have fun playing with your friends today?” Lisa asked, while gently running a brush through her son’s hair. The warm light of the setting sun that poured in through the bedroom window did nothing to soften the lines of concern on her features. Her brows were knit together in worry, her lips tightly pressed against each other.

Adrian had been remarkably quiet and sulky after they returned home that day. So much so, that he had hardly eaten a bite that evening. It ached, to see him like this. 

“They’re not my friends...” the seven year old huffed indignantly, as he pressed his favorite stuffed wolf closer to his chest, and bit his lip in an obvious attempt to keep it from quivering.

He paused and dropped his head low, as he took a deep breath through his nose, his small chest expanding under the white nightgown that he always wore to bed. 

“I can’t see them anymore. Their parents won’t let me play with them,” he said in a small voice with his eyes fixed to the floor.

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry that happened. Did they tell you why? Was there at least a reason for it?” Lisa stilled her hand as she willed herself to keep her voice calm and even, her fingers gripping tightly around the handle of the brush.

She placed her hands on his shoulders, in what she hoped was a comforting gesture.

Adrian shook his head he sniffed and wiped his nose on his sleeve. 

Ever since the arrival of their little boy, the Tepes family had settled near a small town, away from the larger cities and the church’s heavy influence. The forest helped obscure at least some of the castle from prying eyes, and it was only an hour’s walk to the nearest village, where Lisa had recently opened her own doctor’s practice. Vlad had been reluctant at first when Adrian had asked him if he could come with her, but the boy was so full of energy and unrestrained curiosity, he longed to see what life was like outside of the castle’s walls. Outside of the seclusion and protection of the forest. It would be almost cruel to keep him contained, and they both knew that they couldn’t protect him forever. So after a lot of going back and forth, they agreed that it would be healthy for him to make friends on his own terms. But now, she was starting to second guess that decision. Was it naive of her, to hope that this day would never come? Vlad had warned her that the good people of Wallachia weren’t going to be accepting of those who were different. He had warned her, that despite her best efforts, he would be scorned, branded a monster, an abomination. Had she been selfish, not to heed his warning? Is this what she was setting him up for?

She breathed, and swallowed down the tight knots of anxiety and guilt that were whirling in her stomach. This was not about her. Right now, her son was hurting. And today, he had learned one of life’s more cruel lessons. Though she wistfully hoped that he wouldn’t have to, for at least a couple more years. Internally, she desperately scrambled for the right words to explain such complex matters to a child his age.

“Come here,” she spoke to him softly, as she wrapped her arms around his small frame, and lowered them both to the floor while pulling him into her lap. Adrian huddled close to her and buried his face in his mother’s hair. He clung to her, relishing in the comfort and warmth that it provided. And as Lisa started to run her fingers through his soft hair, he started crying in broken, hiccupping sobs.

* * *

If only that had been the end of it…

But if there is one thing that never changes in people, it is their ability to fear and hate what they do not understand. And as the little boy grew older, stronger, more powerful… so did the fear that the mere sight of him instilled into others. 

“Freak” ...they called him. 

“Monster,” “demonspawn,” “unholy abomination against everything that the church stood for,” were just a couple among the colorful plethora of insults that  _ the good people of Wallachia _ hurled at him. They didn’t even have the guts to say it to his face. Their jabs and insults were carried upon the wind like fleeting whispers, hushed tones that were barely murmured under their breath. They were cunning and sneaky enough, to think that if they kept their voices low he wouldn’t hear them. To hide in groups, so he wouldn’t be able to pinpoint who said what when he turned around to face them. They were smart like that, to take him by surprise. By the time his brain was usually done scrambling for a rebuke, to think of anything he could say to defend himself with, the moment had passed and his assailants were gone.

But he heard them, he always did...

The fact that they hated him, but feared him enough not to directly confront him with it, made the sting of it so much more persistent and hurtful. 

It was around his adolescent years, when he was but a boy barely entering into manhood, when someone had the bright idea to call his mother out to be “Satan’s whore,” when things truly got out of hand. 

He returned home with a black eye, that day. A black eye, and a smattering of scrapes, cuts and bruises all over his body. Worse could’ve been said for the man who chose to run his mouth like that. The villagers weren’t certain if he could ever fully recover from what Alucard did to him. He didn’t bother to tell, and neither did he enquire about the man’s recovery. He couldn’t give a rat’s ass, had he ended up killing him, if he were perfectly honest, but he had at least enough decency in him to spare his mother that knowledge. 

After that, Alucard barely left the confines of his own solitude. He knew the castle like the back of his hand, which made it all too easy to avoid social contact, if he wanted to. It provided him with ample time to simmer and stew in his own brooding, seething thoughts. There was a bitter seed within him, one that had been planted there since early childhood. And now that he had nothing but time, and no one but himself to keep him company, it curled and coiled around his insides, strangling whatever feelings of warmth and love for mankind he still had in him from the inside out. 

He was growing numb…

And by the time the news of his mother’s execution got to him, he didn’t have it in him to cry. Neither could he care for his father’s wish to eradicate mankind from the face of the earth. Though he didn’t share his madness, his infinite rage, part of him did sympathize with his father. Hadn’t he too been cast out by the world? Rejected and ostracized for what he was? It was a pain that was all too familiar to him. A pain, that he still didn’t know how to cope with. His lament, how ever, was more that of a quiet indifference, an icy numbness that seemed to seep into everything that came into contact with him. Sometimes he would catch himself sitting still as a statue for days on end, while the world quietly passed him by without the acknowledgement of his existence. 

He considered to just go to sleep, in fact, he had considered it many times over the last few years. The thought to simply lock himself away in a coffin, was all too tempting…

At least it was, until he saw  _ him _ …

* * *

Curiosity, as always, was what eventually got the better of Alucard. 

The castle had been livelier than it ever had before, since Dracula started to plan his war in earnest. Solitude, became something akin to a luxury for him. These days, it appeared that no matter where he turned, he was always met with the nameless face of another vampire. He felt no comradery, nothing close to kinship, towards his father’s kind. Their features were obscured by the cloaks that his father bestowed upon them. Leaving only a set of lifeless, glowing, red eyes visible underneath. He didn’t need to see their faces, however, to know that they all glared at him from the edges. And it soon dawned on him that he simply didn’t belong among any of them; humans nor vampires alike. He knew that the loyalty of a fledgeling was tied to their Sire. Which meant that it was with whatever vampiric monarch, whichever of Dracula’s generals happened to turn them. And as long as his generals remained loyal to him, so did they. It was a sentiment that was empty to him, meaningless. To them, he was merely  _ there _ . A by-product of his father’s bloodline, and it was that blood connection alone that assured his safety, their indirect loyalty to him, to some degree. Even if it only meant that they wouldn’t harm him, as long as he didn’t make himself to be a nuisance.

Despite all the activity, the many faces that now filled the castle’s walls, Alucard felt more alone than he had ever been. And the castle itself had never felt this hostile or cold before.

It was on an icy winter’s day, when he felt two distinctly  _ living _ entities approach the castle, that finally stirred something else in him other than complete disinterest. He could sense the thrumming of their pulses long before they had entered the great hall; one was steady and confident, the other pacing to a more anxious rhythm. Like two glowing embers that had been placed in a furnace that had long gone cold and dead. It didn’t do much in terms of providing heat and comfort, but it was very much there, and very, very  _ real _ .

Perhaps it was his predatory nature that piqued his interest in these two  _ humans _ . Perhaps it was the sheer newness that seemed to clear some of the stale air from the castle’s halls, that made him curious. Or part of him might’ve even wondered why they had chosen to join them and turn their back on their own kind. Whatever their reasons were, these two individuals meant a great deal to his father, so he took it upon himself to study them. At least it gave him something else to do, other than sulk and wallow in his own misery. He was, after all, starving for a change of pace, so he welcomed it.

Using his bat form, a habit he had picked up on as a teenager to stalk around the castle unnoticed, he began to shadow both men. And slowly started to learn more about them. 

Devil forgemasters, apparently, is what his father called them. And they seemingly possessed the ability to create life from death. Isaac, he soon learned was his name, was the first one to pique his interest. The man was tall, dark, handsome, and spoke with a velvety accent akin to an African background. His lean yet muscular body was adorned with a dusting of intricate scars and purposefully chosen tattoos. He carried himself with a calm yet clearly evident sense of confidence. Everything in the way that he moved to how he chose his words, spoke of a mind that was calculated, intelligent, strategic, and with a cruel edge. He had all the qualities of a dangerous man, one who was certainly not to be trifled with. 

Isaac preferred to have his forge stationed far below, within the underbelly of the castle, close to its engines and central heating devices. This always struck Alucard as odd, as he clearly remembered him mentioning before how he disliked the heat. But he figured that it was the least likely place where anyone would come and bother him, unless they had need of his work, or had some really good fucking reason to do so. And if not, then he always had his wits and his sharp tongue about him to keep untrustworthy figures at bay. Naturally, the court was littered with all kinds of slimy and unsavory individuals. Ones who thought that if they could not kill or eat him, they might as well get on his good side with empty flattery, or worse, they tried to manipulate him. Oh, and how foolish they were to think of him as lesser, simply because he was mortal. For his mind was equally as sharp as his weapons, and his fighting style just as dangerous and lethal. He was ruthless, cold, and measured… this was definitely something Alucard felt no small amount of respect for. He was an admirable warrior with an iron will. But that iron will, no doubt, came with a price…

Alucard still remembered the first time he witnessed Isaac self flagellate. He was dozing off, suspended from one of the cages that hung from the ceiling of Isaac’s domain, when a sudden wave of crimson fog assaulted his senses. It took him a moment for his tiny bat brain to figure out what was happening. Having never been fed blood from a live source before, the scent was all too overwhelming, too intoxicating. His small claw-like feet nearly lost their grip as he struggled to keep his head clear. His beady eyes flitted towards Isaac, who was sitting cross legged on the floor, his back turned towards where Alucard was hiding. It was like each wet, rhythmic slap of the flail that marred the skin on his back, lulled him further into a trance-like, meditative state. He looked calm, peaceful even, it was as if the pain that he inflicted upon himself left no room for anything else to trouble his mind. It was too much, he couldn’t bear the sight of those sticky, rivulets of red that thoroughly coated the other man’s mutilated skin.

There were no more trips to Isaac’s forge, after that. Alucard had his suspicions why the forgemaster found it necessary to inflict such pain upon himself. But he doubted that he wanted to find out how the man ended up developing such an extreme coping mechanism. He doubted that he wanted to know what kind of horrors someone like him had to live through. The thought of it alone was enough to make his stomach churn. He decided that he wasn’t ready to find out, and neither did he want to.

Hector, unlike Isaac, was quite the eccentric individual. Though they were both forgemasters, their personalities were as different as night and day. Where Isaac’s magic depended on brute force, raw emotion, and required him to sink his dagger, his arcane focus, straight into the insides of his subjects. Hector’s abilities depended entirely on a combination of sound and a spark that he managed to ignite by striking metal against stone. 

The hammer that he wielded made it into a much more labor intensive process. And it clearly showed in the amount of muscle definition that it had gained his upper body. Alucard had at first taken him for an elderly figure, due to the silver color of his hair. But once he had found a hiding spot that allowed him to observe the man more closely, he was pleasantly surprised to find out that Hector was actually around the same age as him and Isaac. 

And now that he thought about it, the cool silver tone of his hair did make for a lovely contrast against the warm earth-like color of his skin. He possessed a rare kind of beauty, so uncommon among humans, which was only enhanced by the pale blue color of his piercing, almond shaped eyes. Had this man been born in another part of the world, he could easily picture him living as some rich monarch’s concubine. Dressed in silks and translucent fabrics that barely left anything to the imagination, his body encrusted in precious gems, as a mark from his keeper. Made to live in a golden cage like some prized possession, for his alluring looks. Alucard shook his furry little head, as if to physically shake the images from his mind. It would not do him well to dwell upon such fantasies, especially if he barely knew the person in question. 

Contrary to Isaac, the other forgemaster preferred to keep himself stationed as close to the sky as possible. His forge occupied one of the highest and largest circular towers the castle had to offer. And unlike Isaac’s controlled demeanor he had a barely contained temper. An inner fire, that even managed to intimidate some full blooded vampires, when ever they tried to push his buttons. He wasn’t afraid to speak his mind. If there was anything on the forefront of his thoughts, he simply said it, as if it was that easy. Alucard couldn’t pinpoint whether he was just being careless or whether he was simply lacking certain social skills. But, considering how he spent most of his life in solitude, with reanimated animal corpses as his only companions, he decided on the latter. He didn’t mind that much, really, at least with this one he could always expect to know what he was up for. 

Most of all, there was a warmth to this man that Alucard longed for. And although he only exclusively showed that side when he was interacting with his animals, it was clearly there. It was in the way his brow relaxed, his eyes half lidded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. The softening of his features made him appear more his age, like the young man that he truly was, vulnerable even, he would dare say. It was clear that this whole confident and hot tempered act was just that, an act, a coping mechanism in order to protect himself from a world full of cruelty. Alucard considered that he too had seen his fair share of mistreatment and abuse. Something warm and soft unfurled around his heart at that knowledge. The feeling of it almost too large to contain within the tiny size that was his bat form. It was oddly comforting that there might be someone out there who understood that pain. Though he wouldn’t fully acknowledge that to himself until he was certain of it. He  couldn’t allow himself to dwell on false hope only to set himself up for disappointment. In his current predicament, he wasn’t sure if he could still afford himself to hope at all.

* * *

Alucard had always thought himself to be a scholar of science and magic. And to see a devil forgemaster at work… well, that was certainly a rare treat. Especially considering how few individuals, be it human or supernatural, were born with this uncommon ability. He recognized the roots of alchemy and necromancy in Hector’s work, yet it was at the same time, a unique art completely in its own right. Even to the point where it absolutely defied the laws of alchemy and necromancy alike, and yet it still functioned. It was proving to be endlessly fascinating.

However, Alucard was straining with his beady little bat eyes to get a good glimpse at what Hector was doing. Though his eyesight was immaculate in his humanoid shape, that wasn’t exactly to be said for his bat form. It was nearly threatening to give him a headache, with the way he was over exerting himself.

He looked around the room from atop a bookshelf on which he was perched, to see if he could manage to find a better vantage point. If only he could get just a little closer. Though perhaps… just maybe… no, that was ridiculous. Something like that possibly couldn’t work, and it carried a high risk of being found out. But the more he considered it, the more it seemed like a viable option. Certainly, he weighed no less than a feather in this form. And Hector’s shoulder pads seemed thick and sturdy enough that he probably wouldn’t even feel him latch onto him. Not to mention that he was small, incredibly small in this form. Though it would be high in risk, it would also be high in reward.

Hector was standing in front of the stone slab on which he performed his rituals. His eyes were narrowed in concentration as he studied the corpse that was splayed out in front of him, and tried to visualize in his mind what he wanted the final result to look like. There wasn’t an excessive amount of raw material to work with. The body was missing a leg, part of an arm, and most of its soft tissue, such as the eyes, nose, and lips had already been eaten by scavengers. He would make a fine, run of the mill soldier, one such as he had already created over a hundred times by now. This was going to be easy.

He closed his eyes and took in a deep, grounding breath. The weight of his hammer felt comforting and familiar in his one gloved hand. With his other he concentrated his energy into the arcane focus. Picturing how it would sit in a heavy, concentrated pool in his stomach and from there how it flowed all the way up his arm and into his hand. Imbuing the tool of his craft with a blue, fire-like magical aura. 

_ Cling! _

Slowly, he pictured in his mind in great detail, how the dead body in front of him would transform. Its skin changing in color to a typical ash grey, razor sharp teeth forming in its deformed mouth, ears long and pointed.

_ Cling! _

_ Cling! _

Yes, he could see it come together now. Arms and legs reforming, its feet strong and capable of making great leaps, sharp claws to mutilate its opponents. One more strike ought to do it!

_ Cling! _

And at last, great demonesque wings for traveling large distances, enabling it with the ability to strike from the air if necessary. 

_ Cling! _

Forming a new night creature, manipulating its body into the desired shape, that was the easy part. But in order for a creature to obey its maker, it had to be imprinted with the will of the forgemaster. Which was not an easy task, considering how violent the birth of a new life always was.

A blue light lit up brightly in the creature’s eyes, as it was bestowed with new life. When the creature filled its lungs with air for the first time, it screeched loudly and nearly flung its body off of the slab as it attempted to land a swipe at its maker, its eyes full of hatred and seething with unbridled rage. Hector routinely and calmly dodged its attacks, his movements almost mechanical, like he could predict its every strike before the creature had even thought of it. All the while, he managed to maintain eye contact with his attacker, as that was the most crucial part of the enchantment. 

Another swipe was directed at him, as the creature thrashed around and scrambled to its feet. He managed to dodge it with a quick side step. From the corner of his peripheral vision he saw a flash of something white, heard a small thud and an indignant squeak. But his brain hardly took notice of it, he could not afford himself to lose focus, not now!

The creature snarled and huffed, as it finally managed to hoist itself upright. Sharp teeth glinting in its gaping maw as it settled into a nearly docile state. Hector calmly approached his newly born creation with an outstretched hand, soothingly running his palm along the side of its cold, hard face. A look of pride in his eyes and a small, satisfied smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew he had performed his work well…

By the time the creature was gathered to join the others, he had nearly forgotten all about the white blur that he managed to spot from the corner of his eye. The memory instantly snapped him out of his thoughts, and he turned on his heel to make his way into the general direction of where it had impacted with the marble floor. 

A pang of hurt and misplaced guilt shot through him as he laid his eyes upon the tiny, crumpled form of a white bat that was splayed out by his feet. Had he not been careful, then he might’ve even stepped on it. Just the thought of it alone was enough to form a painful lump in his throat. At first glance, the little bat didn’t seem like it was injured. But its shoulders were slumping, its wings hanging loosely by his sides, that couldn’t be a good sign. He remembered that it was advised against to move an injured being from its spot. Sometimes bone fractures or internal bleeding didn’t show on the outside. But he couldn’t just leave him here, right? What was he supposed to do?! He normally only dealt with animals that were already dead! This, the live ones, he didn’t have a fucking clue!

He steeled himself, and reasoned that he would figure it out along the way. Hector sat down on his haunches; and slowly, just in case the little guy might think to bite him, reached out his one gloved hand with an upturned palm. With his other hand he gently nudged its backside, coaxing it to climb onto it. 

The little bat felt like it was  _ freezing _ . A cold emitted from its small body that even managed to seep through the fabric of his glove and into his skin. Now that Hector managed to get a closer look at him, this bat didn’t appear like it was an indigenous species. Its fur was hardly thick enough to protect it from the Wallachian cold. The fleshy parts on its face, such as the ears and nose, appeared almost golden yellow in color. Its leathery wings were black, except for where bone and muscle ran through them, accentuating it with even more of that same golden yellow shade. Curled in on itself like this, its dense, short, white fur gave it an uncanny resemblance to a little ball of cotton with wings. Hector smiled as he held the little bat at eye level, its beady little eyes blinked back at him blearily as if it still felt a little stunned from the impact. 

He made a mental note that he should probably consult Dracula about this. If anyone knew why it had strayed so far from its natural climate, then it would likely be him. But first, there was a problem with its temperature that needed to be fixed, or it might not even survive that long.

After a bit of fidgeting, he managed to undo the clasps on the collar of his tunic, and he gently, carefully slipped its tiny body inside of his shirt. Allowing the little animal to rest against his bare chest, right on top of his sternum where there was an open space in the design of his armor. Providing its small body with ample amounts of heat to warm up with. Its wings and claws scratched a little against his skin, but he didn’t mind. He knew he could handle it, even if it would eventually panic and start scrambling to free itself. 

Alucard wasn’t sure how long he’d been unconscious. The last thing he remembered was that suddenly out of nowhere something hit him in mid-air. Everything that happened after that was reduced to a blur in his memory. He shouldn’t have been this careless, in this form his bones were hollow and brittle as glass. Honestly, what was he thinking! He squirmed a little, to feel if he had sustained any injuries. Thankfully, everything was still intact. He felt a little groggy from the impact, but that would eventually wear off. He held himself as still as possible and patiently waited for his senses to come back to him. The first thing that caught up to him, was a comforting warmth that seemed to envelope him completely. It made him feel oddly secure, although he couldn’t exactly pinpoint why. His second observation was the strong, rhythmic thrumming of a pulse, and if his senses weren’t betraying him, it was very close by. So close even, that he could practically feel it as the strong heart muscle pumped blood through its system. He cautiously cracked open one beady eye, and tried to map out his surroundings. Beneath him, was warm, supple, tanned skin and he caught the faint smell of sweat. Behind him, pressing against his back, he felt something that looked like a midnight blue fabric. Oh Lord, had he really… this was embarrassing. But did he truly have that much to complain about, if he was being perfectly honest with himself? Other than the fact that he was practically being coddled by a grown man, of course. One who would be mortified, if he were to find out that it was really him. But he also could’ve just left him where he was. The fact that Hector didn’t even hesitate to help an animal in need was unsurprising, but did say a lot about him nonetheless. Perhaps it was better if he’d let him know in some way or form that he was okay. At least then, the forgemaster could stop fussing over him.

An excitable chittering noise and the light scratching of tiny claws against his skin, brought Hector’s attention back to the fact that he had stuffed a bat down his shirt only moments ago. He had almost forgotten about it, with how small it was and how little it weighed. The little creature no longer felt like it was freezing either, instead it had adjusted very well to his body temperature. Relief washed over him; this was a good sign he knew now that it was going to be okay. Its instincts were kicking in, and no wounded animal would be squirming like this.

“Careful, I don’t want you to overexert yourself. You took quite a blow there, little one.” Hector spoke to him in a calm voice, as he fumbled to scoop him out of his shirt. 

Alucard stilled himself in anticipation of what the forgemaster was planning to do with him next. Two warm and strong hands clasped around him like a cage, careful not to squeeze him, and deposited him in what he recognized to be Hector’s sash, wrapped up into a makeshift bed on top of a writing desk along the outer edges of the room. Alucard couldn’t remember the last time someone had recently treated him with such care. It made him feel uncomfortably small and vulnerable, and he wasn’t sure if he should allow himself to be taken care of, or whether he should tell this human to keep his paws to himself. But he couldn’t deny that a small part of him liked it, a small part of him wanted this, though he knew for certain that he could never openly admit that to anyone.

Hector kneeled in front of the desk, his arms settling on the edge of it, his chin resting on top of his folded hands. He considered Alucard, a soft and fond look in his eyes. And as those pale blue eyes bore into him, Alucard found himself bothered by a nagging feeling, sitting heavy at the back of his mind. It manifested itself as a sharp, stinging sensation in his throat, as if he was trying to swallow down shards of glass, and there was a tightness around his chest... he recognized this feeling as  _ guilt _ . He felt guilty, because he couldn’t comprehend why he deserved to be treated with such kindness. Guilty, because he couldn’t think of a way to repay this man. On top of that he was also keeping his true identity a secret, it felt like he was misleading him, taking advantage of his good nature. It stung too much, he  _ had _ to come forward. Either he could fuck this up now, or he could fuck this up later, it didn’t matter at this point.

Hector was startled out of his own thought process when the bat, seemingly out of nowhere, rose into the air and slowly evaporated into a swirling, white mist. He staggered to his feet and protectively crossed his arms in front of himself, eyes wide with disbelief of what he was witnessing. The mist seemingly only grew larger as it curled and coiled around itself, and he took a few cautious steps backwards, to create more space between himself and this unknown entity. His mouth gaped open in shock as it started to take on the elegant shape of a man. 

Color was slowly seeping into the man’s form, beginning at his feet clad in tall boots made out of the finest leather, adorned with gold colored buckles. Long, long legs, dressed in soft, skin tight, breeches. A set of criss-crossing belts that seemed to have no other function then to constantly draw the eye to a pair of narrow hips. A simple, loose fitting, low-necked shirt accompanied by a tailored and long, black coat, with gold embellishments, and slender hands concealed in a matching pair of gloves. He was pale, almost deathly pale, but he lacked the grey, undead tone to his skin that Hector had grown so accustomed to among the vampires within the castle. His wavy, golden hair reached all the way down his shoulder blades, it’s texture light and silken. His face looked as if it were chiseled straight out of marble, features sharp and regal looking with long feathery eyelashes and pale, soft looking lips.

He leaned his hip against the desk with a feline kind of grace, his hands splayed on either side of him against the wooden piece of furniture. Lurid eyes like crystallized honey bored straight into him, and Hector had to actively keep himself from squirming under the man’s scrutinizing gaze. His face felt embarrassingly hot. The forgemaster pictured that he must look more than just a little flustered to the other man. 

When he spoke, it was in a deep, raspy, baritone voice that was somehow pleasant to the ear due to its unusual lilt.

“I suppose…”

His lips moved as if a sentence was forming on them, as if he was cautiously thinking his words over. He schooled his features, followed by a dry, uncomfortable swallow that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

“I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note:  
> I headcanon that if Alucard had the ability to turn into a bat, it would be a Honduran white bat. The color scheme fits really well, and they're just really, really adorable.  
> \---------------------------  
> This has been a re-writing of an old fic of mine under the same name. Similar story, just with a lot of improvements.  
> Please leave me comments or feedback if you enjoyed it. I love reading them! Especially if you were a fan of my previous work :)  
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://carmine-spitfire.tumblr.com/) for more Castlevania content


	2. Thirst

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Boys are getting thirsty for each other, neither of them is willing to admit it...

“I suppose I owe you an explanation.”

Hector composed himself at the utterance of those words. His arms folded across his chest, his feet shifting into a wider stance, his face a stoic mask of hard lines and pinched features.

“I’m listening, now start talking,” was the clipped answer Alucard received.

He wasn’t going to be swayed by a pretty face that easily, not then and not now.

Alucard carefully thought his words over. His voice sounded foreign to his own ears from the lack of use. His mouth felt sticky and dry, his tongue like a leaden weight against his soft palate. The air around them was growing hostile and thick with tension; he had to tread carefully.

“Despite what it may look like, I had no intentions to mislead you. I merely meant to study your rare line of magic.”

Alucard watched the gears turn inside of Hector’s head at his confession. It wasn’t a lie, after all. And though his guard was still up, the forgemaster’s shoulders appeared to hold less tension than just a moment ago.

“That sounds… _reasonable_.” It was an uncertain answer, like the other man didn’t quite know what to make of him. A slight change in the tone of his voice occurred to Alucard, like the words got stuck in his throat somehow, and it required him more effort to get them out of his mouth. There was a crack forming in the other man’s mask of stoicism, and Alucard caught onto it.

“But if that is the case, then why did you feel the need to conceal yourself?”

Alucard shrugged his shoulders in response “I’m alarmed to say that it might be a force of habit, at this point.”

“It’s been… difficult. I find that things have been easier to deal with when I take on the form of an animal. My needs become more _simplistic_ , and it’s proven to be helpful in keeping unwanted individuals at bay.” 

Now _there_ was something the forgemaster could relate to. Alucard observed how his eyes widened for just a split second at his statement, before the tension all but melted away from his face. The mask had fallen, and Alucard was once again looking at the young man that hid underneath it.

Hector snorted in response, a terribly ungraceful sound that seemed to suit him somehow.

“Honestly, I’ve lost count of the many times I wished I could do just that.” He rubbed the back of his neck, and gave Alucard the smallest of sheepish smiles. 

It was contagious. Alucard couldn’t help but to soften his eyes ever so slightly, and allow for a small, barely there smile to grace his features. Though it was hardly noticeable, it was there and it was genuine. Try as he might, he couldn’t remember the last time someone compelled him to smile.

“I assume you already know my name. May I ask what yours is?” Hector took a cautious step in Alucard’s direction, his body betraying his growing interest in the mysterious man standing in front of him. But he stopped as soon as he noticed the other man minutely flinch in the opposite direction, apparently caught off guard by his sense of directness. 

“You would likely know me as _Alucard of Wallachia._ But that name was bestowed upon me by a people I feel no sense of kinship to. I have cast off that identity a long time ago.” 

His eyes narrowed slightly, even as he admitted to that notion himself. The words left him with a bitter taste in the back of his mouth.

“My birth name is Adrian Fahrenheit Tepes... son of Vlad Dracula Tepes and Lisa Tepes.”

He finished his introductions by placing his hand above his heart followed by a small courteous bow of his head, in a way that was only to be expected of a proper aristocrat. 

The forgemaster stilled himself for a moment, as he was mentally connecting the dots based on the information Adrian had just provided him with. Eyes jumping back into focus, he appeared to have made up his mind. He reached out his left hand, the one that he kept ungloved at all times, and offered it to the man in front of him to shake. It only seemed like the proper thing to do, now that they were officially no longer complete strangers to one another. 

“I am pleased to finally make your acquaintance. You’re quite the elusive creature, Adrian Tepes, son of Dracula… if I may be so forward.”

Adrian simply hummed in agreement. He didn’t want to put the other man off by alluding to exactly how long he’d been shadowing him. Long enough to at least learn his name, but he didn’t need to know more than that, not now that he was just appearing to warm up to his presence. 

He accepted the hand that was offered with exceptional grace and gentleness. To the other man’s clear confusion, he did not proceed to shake it like a common man normally would. Instead, he pulled his hand to his mouth and carefully turned the forgemaster’s wrist in his grip so that the back of his hand was now on top and advanced with the press of a soft, slightly prolonged kiss to his knuckles. 

The contact was brief, almost chaste, yet it proved to be enough to keep the other man frozen on the spot with his heart hammering away in his chest. When the half-vampire opened his eyes once more, he was met with the most appetizing sight. Hector’s full lips had parted ever so slightly on their own accord, pupils dilated with confusion, and a hint of something else, something he couldn’t decipher from the man’s expression. There was a noticeable flush to his cheekbones and the tips of his ears had turned a shade of bright pink. He was practically blushing like a young maiden, who up until now had never been touched intimately before. Some darker, predatory part of him entertained the notion that he might not be that far off the mark in his assumptions. He needed more evidence to build upon that statement however; he couldn’t base such things on a gut feeling alone. Regardless, he made sure to store that little piece of information away for later. It was in his genetic make up after all, to corrupt the feeble minded, the young, and the innocent. Just the thought of it alone was enough to curl the corners of his mouth into a small, wolfish smile.

“Apologies for my… stupor,” the young forgemaster muttered, as he slowly drew his hand away and pressed it tightly against his own chest.

He shifted his weight around uncomfortably and offered the half-vampire a bitter, self-deprecating smile. 

“I’m just a simple, human smith. One who is clearly not accustomed to the ways of vampire aristocracy. I had no means to offend.”

Adrian made no comment upon the other man’s self mockery. A considerate look briefly crossed the half-vampire’s delicate features before their eyes locked again.

“Forgive me, Hector, if I’m intruding upon your personal life here. But if I recall correctly, this isn’t the first time your humble background has drawn a wedge between yourself and the other inhabitants of this castle, is it not?”

“You mean that they will only view me as a piece of livestock from the countryside with magical abilities?”

Adrian winced internally at the other man’s bluntness. There was a clear amount of bite to his words, one that spoke of no small measure of internalized frustration. 

“If you prefer to put it like that, yes. But details aside, I think I might be able to offer assistance, given that you’re willing to listen to my proposal. A quid pro quo, in a manner of speaking.”

“Give me a reason to trust you,” the forgemaster replied almost abruptly.

Adrian paid no attention to the other man’s hackles. Instead, he continued on the same trail he had set out in his mind, to calmly persuade him with reason and clear, cold cut facts.

“As you’ve likely taken notice of, _I_ am not a part of my father’s inner council. I personally care very little for his war, therefore I carry no political ties with me. I was raised as a scholar of science and magic alike, the pursuit of knowledge being my only drive in this existence. If you will give me permission to study your particular field of magic, then I will share with you all that I know about vampire aristocracy, how to navigate their social and political structures. It’s a mutually beneficial exchange, for as far as I’m concerned.” 

Hector cupped his chin with his one gloved hand and narrowed his eyes in concentration. It was a lot to take in; thankfully the half-vampire made no attempt to interrupt him as he mulled his options over.

“What you’re saying does make a lot of sense, I’ll have to agree to that,” he eventually spoke, after a couple of long aggravating moments. 

“But I would like to add a final clause to your proposal.” 

“If you must, I don’t see why I would object to that.” He leaned himself back a little and loosely folded his arms across his chest. If there was any true hostility to the half-vampire’s body language, Hector could not detect it.

“I want to know exactly what you mean when you say _study_. What are your intentions, and what are your expectations on my behalf? And if the worst should happen… if you happen to not keep up with your part of the agreement, or should you end up harming me. Then I have the right to defend myself by any means necessary, and your father will be informed of it immediately. Are we clear on that?” 

“As clear as one can be,” Adrian replied with a curt nod of his head. 

“I prefer to study by observing from a distance. I can assure you that I will not make myself a nuisance while you work. For the most part, you won’t even have to make conversation with me, as it is already in my nature to exist as a wolf or a bat instead. I expect that I should only feel the need to shift back for the purpose of taking notes or communicating matters of significant importance” 

“Do we have an agreement?”

“Just promise me one more thing,” Hector said, while pointing his finger at the other man in mock-accusation for emphasis “...no more bat form while I’m raising night creatures. I don’t think either of us would like a recurrence of what happened here today.”

Adrian chuckled dryly at that, seemingly content with how it was the only confirmation Hector needed on his part.

“Agreed,” he replied, as he reached out to shake the forgemaster’s hand firmly.

* * *

Much later, as the forgemaster was attempting and failing to will himself to sleep, he found himself plagued by fitful images of a certain golden haired half-vampire. 

It didn’t matter how often he tossed and turned, none of his standard sleeping positions felt comfortable enough. If he kept the covers on he was way too hot, making the sheets cling to his sweat soaked-body. If he threw the covers off, he would find himself waking abruptly because he was too cold. The image of Adrian’s soft lips pressed against his knuckles kept replaying itself over and over in his mind, like some cruel form of self-torture. 

Hector had shaken hands with Dracula before; he knew from that experience how cold and unrelenting a vampire’s undead flesh was to the touch. But honestly, he couldn’t quite know what to expect with a vampire who was only half. He certainly didn’t expect his touch to feel so warm, so inviting. 

Slowly but gradually, his idle mind started to wander into more dangerous, sinful territory. He wondered what it would feel like to have those lips trail a languid path of kisses up his neck, down his collarbones, and down the center of his chest. Stopping for just a brief moment to linger at his sensitive ribs, causing his body to break out in shivers as he laid there panting and keening for more of those soft touches, while Adrian lavished his lower stomach with chaste, butterfly light kisses. Eventually, those velvety lips would make their way to the defined contours of his pelvic wings, kissing every curve of his body as if he were mapping him out, committing him to memory. Until at some point those same lips would dip even further downward and… 

Oh god, oh good lord, what was he doing with his hand!! Where had his own hand wandered off to?!!

Needless to say, it took him well over half an hour beneath a cold shower, before his little _problem_ had cleared up somewhat. 

Hector let out an audible groan as he groggily made his way into the main room of his humble living quarters. His fingers rubbed circles into his eye sockets, to clear some of the sleep deprivation from his mind, using his other hand to secure a plush towel around his hips. Apart from the occasional creak in the wooden floorboards, his bare feet were almost soundless as he quietly padded his way into the small kitchen area. His hair was still soaking wet and left a scattered trail of little droplets in its wake, but he couldn’t care. He was too full of chagrin, too embarrassed to admit to what he caught himself doing. Of course, he wasn’t unfamiliar with the habit, but usually when he did it he would simply picture a faceless body. A nameless figure for the sole purpose of getting himself off on. This was the first time he had actually fantasized about someone he knew, someone he had seen before. It felt almost dirty, like some kind of taboo, like he had crossed a moral line somewhere. 

He scoffed at the notion. Wasn’t it kind of silly of him that _this_ was making him feel uncomfortable, when he had already performed so many acts that would condemn him to hell anyway? It appeared almost benign, utterly minute in comparison. He snorted at his own thoughts, and offered himself a dry, woeful grin before he made his way to the nearest window and peered outside to see what time of day it was, his one arm leaning against the wooden frame, his other hand still tightly secured to his hip. 

He estimated that it would take roughly another half hour before the sun was about to set. It brightened his mood just a little, knowing that he could still witness nature’s splendor before he would resign himself to his forge again. Though he adjusted rather easily to the castle’s nocturnal rhythm, it did bother him sometimes that he couldn’t feel the sun’s warmth on his skin anymore. He made a mental note that he should probably go on a hike again during the daylight hours, whenever he could find himself with spare time on hand, lest the lack of sunlight have a somber effect on his emotional state. 

He idly pondered what he should make himself for breakfast. Sometimes, he would join his colleague Isaac in the castle’s communal kitchen. Often there wasn’t much talk, but the silent company of the other man was comforting, reassuring. Today would be no such day however. He was pressed for time, so a strong cup of coffee and a simple piece of toast would have to do. 

* * *

The first thing that Hector always preferred to do, before he set himself to work in earnest, was to set all of his reanimated animals free, and provide each and every one of them with some personal attention. They were free to roam beyond the forge whenever they felt like it, for the doors were always open while he worked. Yet they rarely ventured outside of his presence. Hector wasn’t sure if it was loyalty or magic that tied them to him. There were things about his own magic that even he himself did not fully understand. 

The second part of his routine involved opening up all the curtains that decorated the tall windows of his forge. The moon did little to provide light or warmth to the room, but on a clear night it made for a rather dazzling sight nonetheless. Even under the cover of darkness, he could still appreciate the beauty of the natural world.

It wasn’t much longer after he had begun to set up his tools when he noticed the sound of paws padding across stone from down the hallway, accompanied by a soft panting sound, and the clicking of claws with each hasteful tread of the animal’s feet. When he turned around to face the entryway, he was just in time to catch Adrian leisurely sauntering his way into his domain. He had a leather pouch with paper scrolls and writing utensils strapped around his neck. His golden eyes locked with the forgemaster as he approached, and the white wolf gave him a small huff as if to acknowledge his presence. 

Hector had to actively keep himself from laughing as he entered. The sight of an apex predator with a neat little bag around his neck was bordering on ridiculous. He failed in managing to keep a straight face however. The wolf merely gave him an unamused look and rolled his eyes at him, before deciding on a comfortable spot to settle for the oncoming evening.

It wasn’t long before the two men had fallen into a steady routine together. Every night, Adrian would wait for Hector by the heavy twin doors of his forge, and they would spend most of the evening in companionable silence. Hector had worried for a while that having Adrian around might influence the quality of his work, considering how he wasn’t used to having a spectator. Despite his concerns, he found himself warming up to the newly acquired company all too quickly. 

Adrian rapidly proved himself to be intelligent, well versed, and far ahead of his biological age in many areas. Hector mused that, no doubt, his parents’ upbringing must’ve had a strong influence in that department. It was only to be expected with an ancient warlord for a father and a renowned doctor for a mother, that one would grow up with certain advantages over the common folk, but what impressed him even more was his uncanny ability to look at things from an angle even he himself hadn’t considered. Though he could be a bit of a brat at times, the young man also proved himself to be rather witty and charming in his own way. 

Hector finds himself so wrapped up in discussing new and interesting theories about magic and alchemy with the man that he almost forgets there was still another part of their arrangement to uphold. The information that Adrian provides him about vampire etiquette and the inner workings of their societal structure is dry and stale as day old bread. But with enough practice and repetition, Hector manages to commit most of the material to memory. 

He finds that the subject becomes a lot more bearable whenever he manages to find an opening to ask the young half-vampire about his personal experiences. The realization quickly dawns on him how little he really knows, and how much he had previously viewed him as just another run of the mill vampire. Hector learned, for once, that despite his sensitivity to light, he could still walk under the sun without the risk of catching fire. He required sleep and other forms of sustenance just like a human would, but less frequent and in smaller quantities. Hector considered that the consumption of blood substituted for some of it, but he didn’t feel comfortable enough yet to ask him about such intimately personal matters. 

Aside from his ability to shift into a bat or a wolf, Adrian could also move his body with preternatural speed and agility. He was a skilled swordsman, and had developed his own unique combat style through a combination of his levitation abilities and his preference for a rather unusual type of longsword. On top of that, his vampiric heritage provided him with all the usual advantages, such as enhanced strength and rapid healing abilities. 

The more Hector got to know him, the more he started to realize that Adrian wasn’t occasionally acting like a brat for merely no reason. Beneath his barbs, his sarcasm, his snarky behavior, was an endless well of profound sadness. It was a coping mechanism, a means to preserve whatever was still left of his sanity. Just like his own choice to distance himself from humankind had been. After all, it was still better to be alone than to have others hurt you over and over again. It was a kind of pain that Hector was intimately familiar with. And if he was being perfectly honest, it didn’t exactly require the mind of a genius to put the pieces together, and see just how lonely the vampiric Prince was. It left him with a persistent ache in his chest, he felt for the young half-vampire, empathized with him. It was at that point when he decided that If there was anything he could do to soften some of that hurt, he would jump to the occasion without a second thought…

“My apologies Adrian, I couldn’t quite remember if you happened to have a preference. I hope this dish will be to your liking.” 

The white wolf perked up from his position at the utterance of his name, eyes bright and alert, ears turned into the direction of the forgemaster’s familiar voice. Hector had left him to his own devices roughly twenty minutes ago, without a single mention of where he had wandered off to. He simply assured him that he wouldn’t be gone for too long, and insisted that he’d stay inside the forge for just a little longer. 

There was a gust of cold air, a flurry of white mist, within mere moments Adrian had transformed to his original form again. He raked one leather gloved hand through his golden blonde hair and when he turned himself to the source of Hector’s voice the forgemaster presented him with a steaming plate of food, fresh from the castle’s main kitchen. 

“You said you were capable of consuming human food, right?” Hector asked him with an empathetic look on his face. 

“You never quite mention where you wander off to after I’m done with my shift. But I figured that if it wasn’t worth mentioning, it could wait a little longer. Will you join me?” 

Adrian had to stop himself from gaping, his amber eyes dropped to the contents on the plate for just a split second. Roast potatoes, honey glazed carrots, and a sizable chunk of medium-rare steak, well seasoned. All of a sudden, his stomach was rumbling loudly. Like it had completely forgotten about its need for sustenance until it was reminded of its purpose again, he was salivating. 

“Careful now, I’d almost say you’re warming up to my company.” There was no venom in the half-vampire’s words. In fact, he found himself intrigued by Hector’s confidence and accepted the offered plate with a playful smirk across his features.

“Don’t think too highly of yourself, your ego is already inflated as it is,” Hector replied with a chuckle and a small wink as he made his way to the nearest, unoccupied desk.

Once both men were properly seated, Hector did not hesitate to immediately spear some vegetables to the end of his fork, meanwhile Adrian took his sweet time to remove his gloves first and made to primly deposit them in his lap.

Hector’s eyes briefly flitted to Adrian’s exposed hands. He had half expected to find claws there, but instead his fingertips looked blunt and non-threatening albeit obscenely manicured and clean. 

“I can actually will them to grow sharper,” the half-vampire deadpanned at him with an impassive stare while forking a neatly cut square of meat into his mouth. 

Hector opened his mouth to say something, then made to shut himself up again when his words of protest died on his tongue, there was no way to hide his embarrassment in that he was caught staring. 

“Are there… _other_ things you can will into existence?” His words were uncertain, but Hector was anxious to change the subject, anything to deflect the attention from his own disconcerted state.

Adrian thought his question over for a bit, chewing his food slowly and deliberately as he mulled it over in his mind.

“There is one other thing…” he eventually said “... but it doesn’t exactly make for appropriate dinner conversation.” 

Hector snorted at the other man’s sense of propriety. “Honestly, considering my line of work, I doubt there’s still anything that can manage to ruin my appetite.”

“Well… let’s say I were to feed off another person, I could actually manipulate what the experience would be like for them. I could will it to inflict pain, or for it to be pleasurable on both ends.” 

“You’re phrasing it as if you’ve actually never bitten someone before; like you only know this to be true in theory.” 

“I haven’t… contrary to popular belief, I consider it to be an intimate experience that should not be taken lightly. Over the span of his long life, my father has witnessed countless vampires, young and old, get drunk on either blood, lust, or both. So I’ve been saving myself for someone I could commit myself to. It’s a lot easier to control when one is allowed to feed from a steady and frequent source.”

“So what have you been feeding on instead?”

“My father has human blood stored in cold canisters, deep within the cellars of the castle. It’s the closest he could offer me to the genuine thing, without the added risk.” 

Hector shuddered at the thought “I can’t imagine that to be appetizing, but I deeply respect your resolve.”

Hector skewered another potato to his fork like they had just discussed something as benign as the weather. Adrian had to admit that the man had an iron stomach indeed. Even with that mental image plastered into his mind, the man didn’t so much as flinch over the course of the entire story. He wondered for a brief moment what it would feel like to have his teeth clamped around the tanned column of Hector’s neck. To apply pressure until the man’s supple skin would give way. He closed his eyes almost on instinct, forcing the tempting image to be discarded from his mind. 

“Are you alright? You seem to have gone pale all of a sudden,” Hector asked while giving him a concerned look.

“It’s nothing,” the half-vampire muttered, gesturing with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Hector knew for certain that _nothing_ definitely meant _something_. But he could let this one slide. There was no use in poking or prodding if the man didn’t want to speak of it.

“I should leave…” Adrian rose from his seat in such an abrupt fashion that the chair almost toppled backward in its wake. He paused and turned to make eye contact with a rather perplexed looking forgemaster.

“Forgive me, I remembered that I have some rather pressing matters to take care of. Thank you for the food and the company. I hope we may continue to do this again for many more nights to come.” 

He offered the man a weak smile and with that he all but swanned out of the room, deliberately ignoring the persistent flutter deep within the pit of his stomach.

* * *

During his shifts, Hector found it all too easy to occupy his mind with other more pressing matters, but within the solitude of his own bedroom the silence proved to be almost deafening. He found himself, as it was almost becoming customary by now, losing sleep over his conversation with Adrian from the previous night. 

Everything from how the man carried himself to how he dressed was drenched in a ridiculous amount of eroticism. His entire presence spoke of the promise of carnal desires and the most sinful temptations one could only dream of. 

Of course, all vampires were genetically designed to be beautiful and highly alluring. But they all paled in comparison to the young half-vampire, for he evidently lacked the monstrous edge the others possessed. 

His mind kept flitting back and forth between images of teeth biting down on succulent flesh, and those inviting, soft lips stained in crimson. He genuinely wondered if what Adrian had said earlier was true.

“...I could will it to inflict pain, or for it to be pleasurable on both ends…”

The mere thought of it left him uncomfortably hard, and he knew at this point that no amount of willpower could get the weak, treacherous flesh of his body to relent. He meant to make quick work of it lest he would lose more sleep than he could afford himself to, so he reached into the drawer of his nightstand and pulled out a small vial with a neutral oil, which he had acquired from his private kitchen.

Once the oil had warmed up in his hand, he started pleasuring himself with slow, deliberate strokes across the length of his own member, the sensation providing instant relief to his lust addled state. 

He sighed and closed his eyes, picturing himself naked within Adrian’s hold. The half-vampire’s grip on him felt warm and firm, there was the slightest flutter of lips ghosting over the jumping artery across his throat. A brief moment of pain, a sharp intake of breath as elongated, needle-like fangs penetrated his flesh. Followed by a wave of ecstasy that set his hair standing on end and his nerves alight. 

He wondered if Adrian would allow him to ride against his thigh and pictured himself grinding against silken smooth, pale skin. Smearing the other man’s leg in pearly white streaks of pre-cum. 

Hector groaned. He was getting frustrated with how his release appeared to stay just out of reach. He was so, so close, his body covered in a thin sheen of lukewarm sweat. It wasn’t enough, he needed more than just his hand to push himself over the edge. 

He reached over for the vial, and dipped two of his fingers into its contents. Pulling one knee to his chest to allow himself better access, he started massaging his entrance with little circular motions of his fingertips. 

It didn’t take long before he was relaxed enough to slip in a finger, and he started exploring the tight warmth of his own body for that sweet bundle of nerves. By the time he managed to slip in a second digit, his voice had been reduced to broken moans, and stuttering, ragged breaths. 

He was working his strokes in tandem with the rhythm of his fingers on which he fucked himself, and he pictured Adrian fucking him from behind while he was simultaneously feeding from him. The blunt head of his cock hitting him just right, with each relentless snap of his hips. Yes, just like that… just a little further… a little more and…

Hector’s lungs felt like they couldn’t suck in enough air for him to breathe, his mind overcome by white-hot ecstasy, as he splattered his own spend across his stomach. The sounds that he made were wet, guttural and he barely recognized them to be his own as he frantically chased after his own orgasm, milking himself down to the last drop until his nerves and muscles were twitching with overstimulation.

The back of his hand came to rest on top of his brow, his chest was heaving and he willed himself to breathe calmly. He could feel his body grow lax and heavy in the afterglow of his own release. It took him a gargantuan amount of effort to hoist himself upright. He shuffled into the bathroom and absentmindedly made to clean himself up.

This was getting ridiculous… how much longer could he keep this up? He could no longer deny that he was beyond the point of redemption, he craved for the half-vampire, body and soul alike. 

Something just had to be done…

* * *

“You’re being serious, Dracula actually brought home a puppy one day?”

“It’s true, he did. He proclaimed he had encountered it along the road on his way home. Though it only managed to stay with us for a little while, we were both heartbroken to see him leave.” Adrian replied with a small chuckle while wiping the remains of his meal from his mouth with a clean napkin.

“What happened?” Hector leaned in closer with a genuine glint of curiosity in his eyes.

“Mother insisted that he must belong to a family, so she brought him with her each time she would make for the village, until she had found who he belonged to. It was the first and the last time we ever owned a pet.”

“I’ll have to admit, it’s difficult to picture _Dracula_ , of all people, doing something so kind natured and domestic,” Hector chuckled.

Adrian nodded and merely hummed in agreement to what the other man said.

Despite the mirth in his voice, the stupid grin plastered over his face, Hector was growing more reluctant by the second to watch Adrian leave. He had wracked his brain all evening over an excuse to make him stay just a little while longer. But up until now, he still couldn’t manage to think of a viable plan. He was growing wearier by the moment…

“I believe it’s time I should leave you to your own devices. Thank you very much as always, I shall see you again this upcoming evening.” Adrian stood up and made to brush away some of the crumbs that had fallen into his lap.

“Adrian, wait!” Hector jumped out of his seat and tightly clasped onto the half-vampire’s hand, eyes wide and distraught, his pulse hammering away against his eardrums. 

Adrian stilled in his tracks and gave the forgemaster a look that was half confusion and half concern. “Hector, is something the matter?”

Before he could think any better of it, Hector blurted out something that carried all the subtlety of a cold slap in the face.

“Will you join me for drinks this evening?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brownie points for anyone who managed to spot my little Silence of the Lambs reference in this chapter :D
> 
> \---------------------
> 
> Please leave me comments or feedback if you enjoyed it. I love reading them!  
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://carmine-spitfire.tumblr.com/) for more Castlevania content


	3. Closure

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adrian and Hector both experience a "first" in some way.
> 
> This chapter is extra long and 70% porn, please enjoy and consider this my way of making up for the extra long wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A very big thank you to Despommes for being my faithful beta and helping me power through this monster of a chapter over the course of the past two weeks <3

“Will you join me for drinks this evening?”

It took him a moment to comprehend what the forgemaster had just proposed, but once the implications behind it started dawning on him, Adrian could think of no reason to decline the other man’s offer. It had been a good while, after all, since the last time he had a warm body to lie with. 

There had been a time once, before his father’s descent into madness, when the castle served as a hub for weary travelers, seekers of knowledge, both human and supernatural alike. Occasionally he would find himself with a pretty boy or a lovely girl to share the night with. But that was a long time ago and those days were long gone…

“Of course, I would love to join you for _drinks_ ,” Adrian spoke with a small knowing smile, pearly fangs glinting with each well enunciated syllable. 

Hector had to let out a breath he didn’t even realize he was holding. A wave of relief rippled through him, its effect almost instant in clearing away the tension lingering in his body. He had half expected for the half-vampire to decline his offer, if he was being perfectly honest. But he tried his best to keep that to himself, even though Adrian Tepes was making it awfully difficult to keep his emotions hidden whenever he was near him. He dreaded the idea that his willingness would make him seem desperate to the other, but he knew it would not do him well to linger on such thoughts.

Lost for words, he decided to simply return the other man’s smile and motioned for his companion to follow him. 

* * *

Hector led them to a door that was rather plain and unassuming in looks. Adrian was able to tell from the spy window that the inside was faintly illuminated by the ghostly-white light of one of his father’s electrical installations, but other than that he couldn’t quite tell what more lay beyond its barrier. Adrian had never quite liked his father’s devices. The electrical current produced a metallic, buzz that was almost impossible to tune out. He idly hoped that the forgemaster’s quarters were equipped with means of a slightly more ambient nature. 

Once the proper key to its lock had been produced, Hector led them into a windowless, stone corridor with a staircase near the end of it. The passage was barely wide enough to accommodate the breadth of one man. Adrian almost had to bow his head for the sake of not making contact with the ceiling as they ascended up its winding steps. 

“Please, make yourself comfortable.” Hector tossed his keys onto the nearest dresser, and gestured with his hand towards the reading area. 

“I won’t be long. I simply need to change out of these _smelly_ forgemaster’s vestments.” He made a face as if he apparently caught a whiff of his own scent and offered the half-vampire a weak smile.

“Of course, I will be anticipating your hasty return,” Adrian replied smiling, before the forgemaster excused himself and slipped into what the half-vampire could only guess to be his bedroom.

Hector’s living quarters were spacious yet humble and practical in means of its interior design. There was a leather couch and a matching armchair by the fireplace in oxblood red, accompanied by a small side-table and what appeared to be a centuries old, yet well maintained, antique rug. No doubt, generously donated by his father, Dracula. 

There was a small kitchen area and the walls were lined with rows upon rows of bookshelves. Adrian knew the forgemaster was no simpleton, but he could always appreciate an intellectual mind regardless. Other than his books and a few simple tools to assist with his rituals, the man seemed to hold little value for sentimental trinkets or ornaments. 

Adrian recalled hearing stories about this man’s previous life; in his early days he was always on the move and even when he did manage to settle, he tried his best to keep a low profile. It was ironic in a way. Had he been completely successful in doing so, then his father had likely never heard of him and his remarkable talents. A small part of him felt thankful for the fact that he wasn’t _that_ cunning.

He shrugged off his coat and leisurely made to deposit it within the armchair’s leather cushioning, assuring that his gloves were securely tucked away into the article’s inner pocket. He glanced over to the empty hearth and decided that he might as well take the liberty to heat up the room to a more agreeable climate.

By the time the forgemaster returned from his dwellings, the half-vampire was sprawled out over his couch like a large feline. Long, pale arms languorously draped over its backside, head slightly tilted back, his golden hair cascading about his shoulders like a waterfall, his legs crossed in that elegant yet seemingly effortless way that only he possessed. The sleeves on his white shirt had been rolled up to his elbows and Hector was quick to take note of the crackling fire that wasn’t there yet when he left. Apparently his enticing guest did not enjoy keeping his hands idle for long.

Adrian barely heard the other man approach as his bare feet silently moved across the wooden floorboards, nearly catching him off guard in his absentminded state. He tilted his head back just in time and looked over his shoulder to make eye contact.

Hector was dressed in a comfortable looking pair of plain black slacks and a midnight blue, loose fitting shirt with the laces of its collar half undone, leaving the long line of his neck and part of his chest exposed. It was a charming state of half-undress, one that suited him somehow. 

“Apologies for having kept you waiting,” he muttered while nervously tucking a silver curl behind his ear, offering the half-vampire a wry smile.

“Not at all…” Adrian replied, his tone turned warm and syrupy like honey “...I’d say the wait was _well worth it_ ,” he smiled and briefly looked him over in a clear sign of appreciation.

A slight blush crept into Hector’s cheeks but he pointedly made to ignore it and did not comment upon the other man’s flirting. 

He cleared his throat, seemingly anxious to deflect the attention “Can I offer you a drink, perhaps? I could make an estimated guess to your preferences, but I’d rather not,” he smiled while striding over to the liquor cabinet.

Adrian propped his cheek against his knuckles and curled his lips into a mischievous grin “ _Make_ an estimated guess,” he teased.

Hector rolled his eyes, catching up with how he walked straight into that one “Alright… but you’ll have to finish it even if you end up disliking it,” he smiled and looked at the other man expectantly, waiting for him to take the bait.

Adrian scoffed in response and reclined himself back against the couch’s plush cushioning with a woeful and overly dramatic sigh “Fine, fine… agreed, now give me your worst, forgemaster,” he called with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Hector smirked to himself as he produced two small glasses from the cabinet and filled them with a liquor from a mysterious looking dark green bottle. He walked over to the half-vampire, smiling, to hand him his drink. Who reluctantly accepted the offered beverage in response. Glass in hand, Hector proceeded to recline himself against the hearth’s soapstone mantle, taking a casual swig of his drink while gazing at the other man in anticipation.

Adrian took a small whiff of the contents in his glass. It was dark brown, almost black in color and carried a strong, medicinal odor. He wrinkled his nose in disapproval, it reminded him a little too much of his mother’s favored cough syrup. He always hated it when she made him take it, back when he was still little.

He held his breath in hopes to cut back on it’s pungent taste and took a cautious sip from his glass, then proceeded to chug it down and get it over with as quick as possible. It burned as it went down his throat, and left him with a bitter liquorice root kind of taste in his mouth, compelling his delicate face to wrinkle and scrunch up in obvious disgust.

“ _That_ was the most _abhorrent_ liquid I have _ever_ tasted,” he lamented dramatically while peering into his empty glass.

“I take it that herbal bitters aren’t refined enough for your princely palate.” Hector chuckled, clearly amused by the other man’s revulsion. He proceeded to down the rest of his drink in one firm swig, savoring how it left his insides feeling pleasantly warm and tingling.

“Hardly,” the half-vampire grimaced “It’s going to take at least one full bottle of your finest and most expensive wine to cleanse my _princely_ _palate_ , as you so aptly put it, of that awful taste,” he said with a deliberately exasperated sigh while pinching between his eyes as if to prevent an oncoming headache.

“I’ll consider it if you say _please_ ,” Hector goaded while smirking at him pointedly.

“Fine!” he whined petulantly, and gave the other man his best 'woe is me’ face “If you please, oh gratuitous and gracious Hector, bequeath me with a glass of your finest and most posh wine, so that I may cleanse my delicate taste buds,” he said, while making sure to cover his forehead with the back of his hand for effect.

“There there... you got what you wanted. Now suck it up and be a big aristocrat about it.” Hector laughed while giving him a few condescending pats on the back. Handing him a glass of what he knew to be stupidly fancy, white, Italian wine and casually seated himself across from the other. His shoulders slumping into a relaxed posture as he sank into the couch’s plush cushioning.

They sat like that in companionable silence for a moment. Hector, seemingly drifting off in his own thoughts while peering into the fire. And Adrian, savoring the sweet and refreshing taste of his wine while occasionally stealing glances over the rim of his glass in Hector’s direction. Admiring how the warm, amber colored light framed his profile just right and oh so beautifully.

“What’s on your mind?” Hector asked, giving the half-vampire an inquisitive look.

Adrian stilled himself, mortified at how he was caught staring, his heart pounding in a nervous rhythm against the inside of his ribcage.

“Or should I attempt to make another _estimated guess_?” he goaded while grinning playfully.

Oh. _Ooh..._

“Perhaps you should,” Adrian replied, leaning in closer as he gave him a provocative smile, displaying his fangs mischievously.

How could he say no to that?

Hector’s body felt comfortably lax and supple within the pleasant buzz of his alcohol induced state. It proved to be just enough to take away some of that nervous and cautionary edge. Some part of him wanted to immediately drape himself over Adrian’s inviting form, but he thought better of it and snuffed out the urge before it could take root. 

Adrian was sprawled out lazily across from him. There was a faint smile on his face, golden eyes watched him very intently as if anticipating. When Hector crawled over to him his legs spread out slightly, a silent invitation for him to draw nearer, welcoming him into his personal space. 

Warm, smooth fingertips came to cup Hector’s chin gently as if to guide him, bring him closer. And Hector willingly allowed himself to be lead until their hips and arms were slotted together intimately. The wine on Adrian’s breath was sweet and heady, Hector wondered what it would be like to taste him, he wondered if those lips were as soft and plush as he had imagined them to be.

In a brief and stupidly brave moment, he leaned in, closed his eyes and lightly felt their noses brush together, soft and almost ticklish, followed by the tender press of velvety lips against his own, warm and gentle. 

A small, surprised hiss escaped him when Adrian gently gripped his bottom lip between his teeth, blunt and almost human. Hector sank into it, felt him playfully tug at the soft and pliant flesh, coaxing a breathy moan from him. The half-vampire chuckled throatily, seemingly amused by how responsive he was, as if he found it to be endearing. Long, toned legs came to curl around him almost possessively. A warm hand reached out to cup his cheek and Adrian released him with one last, lingering peck to his parted lips. 

Hector slowly opened his eyes, dazed and bleary looking. He smiled at Adrian and contently nuzzled his face into the other man’s neck, hoping that it would motivate him to continue on in some way. 

To his delight, Adrian’s fingers drifted to the nape of his neck and started stroking the area in idle patterns. Hector sighed into it, could feel his anxiety dissipate and practically melted on the spot. It’s like each cleverly instilled touch winds him down even further, breaking down the walls he had built around himself. Shockingly, he finds that he welcomes the intimacy of it.

“Dear forgemaster, how long has it been since someone touched you like this?” 

Hector weakly shook his head in response “I can’t remember,” he murmured.

Normally, it wouldn’t have bothered him all that much. But as Adrian continued to stroke and pet him gently like he was something precious, something worthy of safe keeping, he thinks that he doesn’t want it to stop. 

“Adrian…” his voice was breathy and uneven as it came out of him.

“Shall we take this into the bedroom?”

* * *

Hector knew somewhere in the back of his consciousness that neither his most vivid fantasies nor his previous experiences could’ve prepared him for this.

Contrary to popular belief, Hector wasn’t a complete stranger to sexual intimacy. But his experiences were limited to a couple of hasty handjobs in the dark, with strangers whose faces he'd rather forget. It always left him feeling cold, used and empty, but he was willing to live with it as long as he didn’t know any better. Looking back, he thinks himself to be rather foolish to assume how that was the extent of it, to believe how that was all that intimacy had to offer him…

He’d never imagined it could be anything like this, here within the comfort of his own bed, his body naked and vulnerable to the cold air, his eyes closed, arms stretched above his head and Adrian's warm and radiating form crouched over him. 

Silver colored, feathery eyelashes hovered just above the curve of his cheekbones, lips slightly parted in anticipation, wanting, yearning for what was to come. He wasn’t allowed to move or to open his eyes, not until Adrian would grant him permission to do so. It left his senses sharp and on edge as they tried to tune in for any sound or change in movement from the other. 

For a long time Adrian just hovered there. Hector imagined how that scrutinizing, studying gaze of his would glide over every vulnerable part of his body, as if he was contemplating on where to start. At least he hoped that would be the case. Perhaps the half-vampire was just waiting for him to break. To leave him wanting until he’d turn into a squirming mess and start begging to be touched, for if this was going to be a game of patience then Hector knew he wasn’t going to last long. 

There was a shift in weight, a rustle of the sheets when Hector felt two long legs straddle his hips, naked and feverishly hot against his own skin. The half-vampire was in such dangerously close proximity to a part of him which was already starting to stir. It was almost cruel how he was rendered helpless like this, but he couldn’t really complain since he willingly agreed to it. Hector arched his back and tried to buck his hips, anything to draw the other’s attention to that part of him which was hard and left unattended, but Adrian’s weight kept him pinned to the spot. The only response that it earned him was a soft chuckle, as if his futile attempt amused him. 

A splayed hand came to press against his chest, gently pushing him back into the mattress, the weight of it appreciated. He felt Adrian lean forward, his long silken hair tickled against his shoulder, his breath felt hot and damp in his neck as his lips hovered less than an inch away from the shell of his ear. 

“You’re so needy; I think I rather like that.” Adrian’s tone was soft and velvety, as if he was praising him. Hector briefly felt him smile against his skin before he pressed a gentle kiss to his neck. He canted his head to the side, offering the half-vampire the length of tanned skin, pleading to him with his body to continue. But none of what he had hoped for came and he felt Adrian draw away from him all too soon. He whined pathetically in its absence. 

The weight on his hips, however, never left. He felt it shift again as Adrian leaned forward and Hector nearly yelped when nimble fingers came to play with his nipples. Pinching at them harshly until they were teased into erect little buds, slightly pink, flushed and tender. A hot, wet tongue laved over them, leaving a quickly cooling path in its wake, soothing away any soreness. Hector sighed into it, feeling a slight relief there. It was a tender gesture, no matter how small.

Blunt, non-threatening fingernails scraped lightly over his sensitive ribs, as if carefully counting every dip and rise. Hector arched into it, wanting for the touches to go on, leaving him gasping and shivering beneath the other man. 

He felt those clever fingertips drift further downward, caressing him in a way that was almost ticklish as they brushed over his exposed stomach, stimulating the muscles beneath them to twitch involuntarily. Adrian’s hand came to linger at the small trail of silver hair that started at his navel and continued down to his pubic bone, stroking appreciatively in little circles as if glued to the spot. Hector tried to angle his hips and moaned in a way that was hopefully encouraging to the other, his eyelashes fluttered with how he was straining to keep his eyes closed.

“Hector,” Adrian whispered while brushing a few silver waves from his face. “Will you let me take you? I want to be inside of you, make you mine.”

Hector bit his lip in restraint, how this man simultaneously managed to sound so attentive yet so tantalizing and seductive was beyond him. He nodded weakly “Top drawer on the left,” he muttered and angled his head into the general direction of his nightstand.

“You’ve been so good for me Hector, so obedient.” Adrian whispered to his ear while gently caressing his face “Now open your eyes for me, my pretty. I need you to be here with me.” 

Hector’s eyes fluttered open at the command. He blinked a couple of times, needing a brief moment before he came back to himself. Adrian’s weight on top of him was gone and his mind half-registered hearing him rummage for something. He made use of the opportunity to sit himself upright. It wasn’t before long when Hector felt the mattress dip behind him again, a warm hand reached up and came to playfully stroke through his silver locks, followed by the press of a soft kiss to his neck. 

“Back so soon? You’re awfully eager.” Hector chuckled teasingly and he reached up to run his fingers through Adrian’s silken mane.

“So far I don’t hear _you_ complain about it.” Adrian retorted as he pressed himself closer to Hector’s back, catching the hardness of his erection between them, drawing a small gasp from his bed partner at the sensation.

Pale arms came to snake around Hector’s chest, drawing him flush against the other man’s front. He felt Adrian’s soft lips brush against the sensitive skin in the crook of his neck, spurred on by the pleasant sensation he reached behind him, curled his hand around the back of Adrian’s head and gently pulled him in closer. A low, satisfied, rumbling noise reverberated from Adrian’s chest as if some animalistic part was starting to stir. His grip on the forgemaster tightened. He brushed his nose against the other man’s neck and drew in a deliberately slow breath, savoring his scent. Hector had to bite his own lip _hard_ , to keep himself from keening into it, uncertain as to how Adrian would react. If his self-composure had been crumbling at this point then the next thing that Adrian did was certainly going to ruin him.

Hector felt the wet slide of an almost scorchingly hot tongue against the already sensitive area. Clawed fingernails dented into his skin as Adrian’s fingers possessively curled in on themselves. There was the press of an open mouth to his neck, fangs carefully tucked away, and a harsh sucking sensation, intense enough to form a bruise, its implication simple. He was laying claim to him, marking his body as property, a clear sign of warning to anyone who dared to come near _stay away, this man is_ **_mine_ **.

Hector had to hold onto him firmly, arms reaching behind himself awkwardly as Adrian continued to nip and suckle with that devilishly good mouth of his. His knees felt weak and he was certain his spine had been reduced to jelly as each hard suction had him gasping and shaking. 

“You… you can drink from me, if that is what you want,” Hector panted, eyes glazed over with pleasure.

He heard the half-vampire hum in contemplation, a hand reached up to cup his face as Adrian started to dust the sore patch of skin with soft kisses.

“I will not deny that I do indeed desire your neck greatly,” he whispered against Hector’s flesh “What you’re offering me is very generous of you, but I _must_ decline. It’s too great of a risk, for someone with my inheritance to start blending sustenance with pleasure.”

Hector nodded in understanding, his hand came to snake around Adrian’s head, where his fingers dug into his hair and started to run soothing little circles at the base of his skull. Adrian’s arms curled around him again and Hector willingly let the other man ease him onto his side, covering his chest with his own. Adrian hiked his knee up and two oil slicked fingers came to circle around his entrance, making him gasp and arch his back in pleasure as he willingly offered the other man his wanting hole. 

Hector had to bury his face deep into a pillow to muffle some of the needy noises that it tore out of him while Adrian worked him open. One hand soothingly ran across the small of his back as Adrian carefully slipped in a single digit, easing him through it. Slowly, his finger started to explore the tight heat of his body, searching for that sweet bundle of nerves. By the time the number had been increased to three, scissoring and stretching him open, he was panting heavily and eagerly arching his back into each penetrating motion, uncaring of what he looked like to the other.

Hector nearly whined in protest when Adrian slipped his fingers out, leaving him open, bare, and empty. But he was not afforded to dwell on it once Adrian grabbed a hold of his hips and pulled him into his lap with inhuman strength, face to face, his cock pressing eagerly into the cleft of his ass cheeks. Hector was too engulfed in the heat of the moment to really care. Nevertheless, a small part of him knew that he probably shouldn’t overestimate himself with this, admittedly, being his first time. So he reeled himself in somewhat and sank down slowly, carefully and allowed for gravity to do most of the work for him. 

He winced a little at the slight burn as his body tried to accommodate the intrusion. Oh but the feeling of being full, the slick glide of Adrian’s cock as it moved across his sensitive prostate had his legs shaking and his toes curling in on themselves. It was unlike anything he ever could’ve imagined, Hector caught himself thinking, as he descended those last few inches and buried Adrian deep inside of him, all the way to the hilt. 

“ _Unholy mother Lillith_ ,” He whispered into the crook of Adrian’s neck as he afforded himself a brief moment to adjust, feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the new sensations. 

“Hmmm, does it feel that good inside of you, my sweet?” He chuckled lightly while running his hand in soothing little circles across Hector’s back. Adrian _felt_ rather than saw the small answering nod the other man gave him in return, it truly was beyond endearing.

“Why don’t you _show_ me how good it makes you feel,” he whispered against the shell of Hector’s ear while his hands glided down to his hips, cupping his cheeks and giving them an encouraging squeeze.

Spurred on by the welcome attention, Hector arched his back and tentatively raised his hips, keeping his senses peaked for a positive response from the other. He closed his eyes, savoring the slick feel of flesh sliding across flesh, the firmness of it, how it stretched him open as he sank down to the widest part at the base. It took him more of a conscious effort than he had anticipated, but after the first initial attempts his hips managed to settle into a fluid motion, a steady pace. He leans in and kisses Adrian softly, arms leisurely draped over his shoulders and drinks in every sigh, every cut off gasp, each roll of his hips seem to coax from the half-vampire.

The first upwards thrust Adrian gives him has him keening out a moan in earnest. He tries to stifle it and buries his face in the crook of Adrian's neck, embarrassed that he might sound too loud.

"Don't," Adrian murmurs to him. His hand comes up to cup the back of Hector's head. "I like hearing you, let me watch you come undone."

Though still a little flustered, Hector obliges and continues his leisurely pace. He sinks himself down in time with Adrian's thrusts, meeting him halfway. 

“Like that?” Hector asked him, feeling increasingly more confident while punctuating his words with one particularly potent roll of his hips.

“Gods yes, just like that,” Adrian panted, his words were starting to slur together, his breathing growing heavy and uneven.

Hector could not deny how his current position provided him with an excellent view of the half-vampire’s face. There was a slight sheen of sweat forming on Adrian’s forehead and chest, his head was canted to the side, leaving the line of his neck exposed, lips parted and slack jawed, eyes heavy lidded and glossy with pleasure. He was becoming transfixed by watching how his visage slowly crumbled. No longer did he look cold or distant, but real and tangible, like a living, breathing, feeling being. Perhaps it was morbid curiosity, or perhaps the irony of the situation was catching up to him. None of that really mattered when he sank his teeth in the pallid flesh of Adrian’s throat and made him cry out in both equal parts pain and pleasure.

Adrian’s grip on his hips became almost bruisingly strong, pinning him to the spot. One particularly well aimed snap of the half-vampire’s hips rammed straight into his prostate, stealing the air from his lungs and making him see stars behind his vision. Hector canted his head back, no longer bothering with keeping his noises subdued. He was barely able to keep up with the brutal pace that Adrian was setting as he repeated the action over and over again until it became almost painful. His hand reached between them, the need to rush himself towards a messy orgasm becoming increasingly more urgent. Caught between the dual sensations of his own hand and Adrian’s cock, the pressure building at the base of his spine was rapidly growing tighter and tighter with each relentless thrust. 

Hector tried to convey to the other in some way that he was about to be spent, but his voice had been reduced to an unintelligible mess that didn’t make much sense anymore. Taking him by surprise, his climax stabbed at him in waves as it rippled through him, his muscles convulsing almost painfully as he spilled into his hand and onto his own stomach. 

The cock in his ass however never faltered, gritting his teeth. He bore down the mind numbing intensity of being fucked through an orgasm. He curled his limbs around the half-vampire as he crawled over him, clinging onto him desperately like he was a life-line as he pounds him into the mattress.

“Please, hurry… I can’t,” Hector’s voice was coming out so strained, it was barely audible above the obscene sound of flesh slapping against flesh that filled the air.

“I know, I know… just a little more, a little further, yes, _yes_ …” Adrian breathes into his neck, his voice muffled against the other man’s sweat damp skin.

There’s a stutter in the half-vampire’s hips, his pacing becomes uneven and frantic. With a series of ragged grunts and a few last, vigorous thrusts of his hips he empties himself inside of the other man, cock twitching as he fills him up with come. Hector can feel it pulse inside of him, feels a heat and a fullness engulf him as his lips part on a silent cry. 

His hands come up to caress Adrian’s back, soft touches instilled with the intent to sooth him down from his high as his body grows lax and heavy on top of him. It blankets him with a weight that is both warm and comforting, yet still so new and unfamiliar to Hector that it nearly aches.

Adrian grants him one last lingering kiss to his parted lips before he makes to dismount himself. He crawls out of bed on shaky legs and starts navigating the space for the nearest bathroom, leaving Hector by himself without saying a word. If the forgemaster objects against it in any shape or form then Adrian does not hear or see it. 

Moments later, he returns with a damp washcloth and makes to clean the both of them from the remnants of their coupling. He reasons with himself that it’s merely the polite thing to do. Despite that he’s close to half asleep, Hector seems to appreciate the kind gesture. Soft moans and contented sighs pass through his lips on occasion as he runs the cool cloth across his body, cleaning him of most of the oil, sweat, and semen that coats his skin in a sticky film. 

He leans in, simply intending to brush a couple of sweat-damp curls from Hector’s face, but finds himself caught off guard when the forgemaster catches him in an iron grip and pulls him in close. His back stiffens, his breathing becomes shallow as he wills himself not to move, fearing that it might spur the other man on to coil even tighter around him if he attempts to resist. 

A familiar restlessness seeps into Adrian’s bones as the veil of lust slowly dissipates from the air around them. It clings to his nerves and claws up his spine like a damp, bone chilling kind of anxiety that makes him want to crawl out of his own skin. Filling him with the fearful need to run, before this turns into something more than what he knows he can handle.

* * *

Adrian wasn’t sure how long he’d been waiting. Judging by what little daylight managed to peek through the heavy, velvet curtains that shrouded the forgemaster’s bedroom into darkness, it must’ve been close to noon. 

Even in his sleep, Hector turned out to be a heavy cuddler. His arms were tightly coiled around Adrian’s waist. One leg was curled around his hips, his face pressed against his side. Adrian kept himself as still as possible throughout the entire ordeal, and calmly waited for Hector’s breathing pattern to indicate that he was fast asleep. 

It was, unfortunately, something that Adrian had grown accustomed to. There might’ve been a time when he would allow himself to grow attached to others, but by now, he knew that such kindness was always a poorly concealed excuse to use him in one way or another. People rarely took a liking to him unless it was for his looks or due to some kind of political connection to his father. It hurt him more than he was willing to admit, even to himself. 

His body was only flesh, that he could live with. His tears, however, were his own and they could never take that from him.

He spared his bed partner one final glance and nearly regretted his decision, but he knew better by now than to hope so naively, to linger on such childish fantasies. In the end, he knew that this was the best for both of them. 

Carefully, _very_ carefully, he made to untangle himself from Hector’s embrace. It was a painstakingly slow process, one in which he barely afforded himself to breathe fearing that it might stir his bed partner awake. Fortunately for him, the forgemaster also appeared to be a heavy sleeper. All he needed to do now was to get himself dressed and quietly slip away like nothing had ever happened.

“Don’t go.”

Hector’s voice was so small, so desperate, that Adrian couldn’t will himself to move even if he wanted to. Neither could he bring himself to pull his arm away from the pleading hand that was weakly clinging onto his own. Instead, he remained frozen in his spot at the edge of the bed, uncertain of what it is he should be doing. 

“Please, stay with me. You don’t have to run away.”

It was like a well aimed blow that struck him right at his core. Like a crack that was gradually spreading in the thin veneer of self composure that he wore as his own. It ached in his throat, made it hardly possible to breathe past the heavy lump that was threatening to suffocate him. 

“What makes you think I’m _running_ , Hector?” He tried to make the tone of his voice sound cold, distant, but the slight tremor that ran through it was impossible to suppress.

“What else would you call this?” Hector retorted, dry and straight forward “There’s no use in trying to fool yourself into thinking otherwise. Regardless of whether you believe me or not, I know what it feels like to be used and rejected. I didn’t spend all those years living in isolation because it’s something I really wanted, it was simply the safest option.”

It was enough to still the very air in his lungs. What could he say to something like that, something that was so heartfelt, so painfully truthful? Not even his own parents were capable of reading him, his placid mask of indifference was guaranteed to make sure of that. Yet this man managed to see through him like he was made of nothing but glass!

Adrian did not run when he felt the mattress dip beside him beneath the other man’s weight. He did not run when a hand gently came to cup his face, even though he was terrified to look into those misty blue eyes. He did not run when he saw nothing but compassion and warmth in them. And he did not run when Hector _truly_ kissed him for the first time. Not a rough kiss, aided by lust and carnal desires; but one that was soft, vulnerable and full of unspoken confessions… one that was guaranteed to seal his undoing.

For how he _wanted_ to run at that moment. He was so, so scared to expose whatever vulnerable parts of his heart were still intact to a world that was much too cruel to handle it. He _wanted_ to run, to hide himself away until his body had crumbled to dust and there wasn’t a soul alive who still remembered him by name. But then those comforting hands found him and soothed his tears away, wordlessly telling him that he was safe, cared for, that he was going to be alright. Some small part of him couldn’t help but wonder. Perhaps he didn’t have to run for once. Perhaps this man truly understood his pain as deeply as if it was his own. Perhaps, this was going to be worth sticking around for.

“Adrian. Please, come back to bed.” Hector pleaded to him in a voice so soft that it nearly pained him.

Choking back another sob, Adrian nodded weakly in response. He allowed Hector to guide him back into bed. He did not flinch or pull away from him when Hector gently eased him down and wrapped him in his arms. Neither did he swipe at his hands or tell him to keep his paws to himself when he gently started to stroke through his hair until his breathing had gone back to normal. It all felt rather foreign to him, perhaps even a little unnerving, but welcome nonetheless.

There was a nagging feeling bothering Adrian in the back of his skull, a restlessness that buzzed under his skin, yet he couldn’t precisely put his finger on it. Adrian had never been particularly good at giving voice to his emotions. It always hovered around the edges of his psyche, so close though always just out of reach and it was slowly driving him mad. If only he could think of a way to tell Hector that this was something he wanted to commit to. To show him how much he wanted it to be something more than what had transpired here last night.

Oh. _Oh…_

“Hector?” Adrian murmurs against his collarbone, fingers curled in timidly against the tanned skin on his chest.

“Hmmm, yes?” Hector responds to him sleepily.

“Will you let me drink from you?” he asks, golden eyes anxiously peering up at him in anticipation.

Hector’s arms come to unfurl around him. He props himself up on his elbows and for a moment he just stares at him wide eyed and dumbfounded. His expression is unreadable. Anxiety trickles lowly in the back of his throat and Adrian nearly comes to regret that he made such a proposition in the first place.

“A single person to commit to, a steady and frequent source to feed from,” Hector recalls, and it is not a question, rather a statement to affirm that he’s fully aware of the gravity and the implication behind it.

“Yes, I think I would like that,” he replies with a small nod and a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

Adrian returns his smile almost tenfold and lets out an audible sigh of relief, the alleviation that it brings is almost palpable in the air.

“So, how would you like to do this?” Hector smiles at him with half-lidded eyes, easing himself back against the pillows with his arms folded behind his head.

For a brief moment, Adrian is much too distracted to even consider that question with how attractive Hector looks like this. All of his lean muscles are pulled taut with how his position requires him to flex them, from his abs, to his chest, to his shoulders and all the way up to his arms. His mouth drops open, mesmerized and awe struck.

“Adrian?” Hector raises his eyebrows and gives him an inquisitive look.

“I… um,” he clears his throat and briefly shakes his head “I’m not quite sure. I’ve never done this before,” he blushes and pointedly makes to avoid the other man’s gaze.

Understanding suddenly dawns on Hector’s face, as if he just managed to put the pieces of a puzzle together.

“Hey, Adrian…” there’s a teasing edge to the tone of Hector’s voice and the knowing grin he shoots his way is close to infuriating “... does this mean I will be your _first_?”

Adrian does not grace his question with an answer, instead he swiftly reaches for a pillow and hits Hector with it square in the face, muffling the sound of his laughter with its dense feather stuffing.

“In all seriousness,” Hector says between intermittent chuckles as he throws the pillow aside ”If this is going to be your first time, then I want you to be comfortable,” The warm smile that blankets Hector’s face almost feels undeserving to Adrian, but he accepts it for what it is nonetheless.

“So how do you want me?” Hector asks him in a tone that is free of mockery.

“Hmm, there are many ways in which I would want you,” the half-vampire teases as he slinks his way over to him, “but for now this will do. What matters most is that I’ll be able to easily reach your neck.”

“You mean like _this_?” Hector asks him with a teasing smile as he cants his head and exposes the column of tanned skin, baring his throat in a way that is almost provocative.

“Yes, I would say that looks fairly adequate,” he replies with a smile as he crawls on top of him.

Adrian’s silken hair falls like a curtain around them as he hovers above him. There’s a warmth and a fondness to his expression Hector hasn’t seen there before. His hand comes up to cup Adrian’s face and for a moment he just marvels at the beauty of it while his thumb strokes across the half-vampire’s temple in appreciation. Adrian’s eyes briefly flutter shut as he leans into the affectionate touch before he comes back to himself and remembers what it is he was supposed to be doing. He smiles at Hector and dips his head to press a soft kiss to his lips. From there on his nose skims over Hector’s cheek until his lips come to settle just below his ear, causing a trail of gooseflesh to rise in its wake.

Up close like this, the half-vampire can even smell his blood as it pumps through Hector’s veins, its scent foreboding of something vital, young, and oh so full of life. Adrian swears he can feel a phantom pain in his fangs as they start to extend in his mouth, elongating to a length that almost threatens to pierce the flesh there. His golden eyes become transfixed by the pulsing vein in Hector’s neck. It sings to him with a promise so euphoric, beckons him to come closer, to draw nearer, to pierce the soft flesh with his teeth and allow for the life giving nectar to be poured upon his tongue. Adrian shudders, allows for his eyes to fall shut and briefly lets the image play out in his mind, seeing how it coats all of his insides thickly as it trickles down his throat. His breath comes out on a shaky exhale. It startles him momentarily. He breathes deeply, grounds himself, forces the tempting images to be purged from his mind.  
_He is no monster._

“Try to stay calm. This might hurt briefly,” it’s all he offers as a final warning before he sinks his fangs into the warm flesh until it gives way.

For just a brief moment, the half-vampire’s mind goes white-hot with pleasure, the feeling of skin breaking beneath his fangs providing instant relief to that part of him which craves to tear flesh from bone. His mind vaguely registers the forgemaster’s grip tightening around him, groaning in pain for the first couple of seconds before his labored breaths settle into contented sighs and melt into soft moans of delight. Hector knew about the shift in sensation, anticipated it from the start, yet it still seems to catch him by surprise somehow. _Of course, hearing about it is one thing, to experience it is something entirely different,_ Adrian reminds himself.

As the first drops of crimson liquid hit his mouth, Adrian swears he can feel sparks dance across his tongue. The living wine is sweet, thick, and laced with an ancient magic so potent that it nearly overwhelms him. He struggles to appear even remotely civilized as he can not help but to voice his pleasure over the sweet, euphoric heat that burns right through him. 

Meanwhile, the forgemaster is starting to understand why vampires are known to be such formidable predators. There’s a warmth spreading throughout his body as the seconds tick by, it blankets him, comforts him, makes him feel treated like a meal most worthy. It tingles in his fingertips, his toes, and makes his hair stand on end. Waves of gooseflesh ripple through his body akin to how the ocean tide lazily laps at the shoreline. The sharp sting at his neck is no longer a sharp sting either. Within mere moments it has been reduced to a dull throb that is almost pleasant and barely still manages to register as something troublesome around the fuzzy edges of his mind. His eyes flutter shut and he tunes his ears for the rhythmic sound of Adrian’s drinking pattern. Its slow, repetitive noise nearly lulls him to sleep, and he pictures that if this is how he were to die, he would go peacefully. 

When Adrian unlatches himself from him it nearly feels like it’s too soon. He bites down a whine in protest before it can pass through his lips. Almost chuckles at the ticklish feeling as the half-vampire lovingly laps at the wound that still bleeds lazily at his throat and wills for the flesh to knit itself closed. Hector can’t remember the last time he felt this physically relaxed. He isn’t sure whether it’s the blood loss, an aftermath from the vampiric bite, or both, but he relates it to the after effects of a hot bath or a thorough full-body massage. Not a single drop of tension still lingers in his being. He yearns for a good nap.

On the other end of their exchange, the young half-vampire doesn’t seem to fair much better either. There’s a rosiness to his cheeks and a big sheepish grin plastered all over his face. His amber colored eyes look hazy and unfocused and Hector likens him to look every part like that of a happy drunk: just on the right side of tipsy, within that perfect sweet spot of intoxication where everything appears to be right with the world. 

“I think,” Adrian lets out a small hiccup and gingerly feeds a couple of stray droplets back into his mouth. “I think I might have over eaten a little. I did not anticipate for fresh blood to be this potent. Good lord, you certainly are heavy on the stomach.”

He chuckles and nuzzles his face into Hector’s hair, savors how he smells of sandalwood and so perfectly like himself.

“Shall we go to sleep?” Adrian murmurs against his silver locks “I’m not certain about you, but I could do with a nap.”

“Of course we can,” Hector chuckles softly as he wraps him in his arms again “I would love nothing more than that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Post-season 3 note:  
> Even though I did write this fic before I got to watch season 3...  
> I hope it will nonetheless serve as a soothing balm to mend your tattered hearts 💔
> 
> Follow me on [tumblr](https://carmine-spitfire.tumblr.com/) for more Castlevania content


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